“Uh, Indie Mitchell-Jamiolkowski?”
Clipboard dude clicked his tongue as he scanned a list. With his precisely combed hair and all-business attitude, he reminded me of a male version of Sadie. “Sorry, but I don’t see an ‘Indie’ here. I’ll have to ask you to leave the premises.” His lips curled into a smirk, as if denying me access to my own home brought him joy.
“But Ilivehere,” I exclaimed. I stood on my tiptoes and peered over his shoulder, searching for someone I knew. From what I could see, the house was in a state of frenzy. There were people everywhere—grips hauling gear, two PAs arguing, a woman pushing a rack of costumes—but no one who could tell this holier-than-thou asshole to move aside.
“Hilarious,” he said, looking down his nose at me, “but you need to leave before I’m forced to call security.”
My fist clenched at my side. Little Eddy, Violet’s head of security,was the one who let me up the driveway in the first place. I was pretty sure I could take this idiot; he was tall but wiry with no discernible muscle. Not the ideal choice for a doorman.
“Darren, stop being a prick, and let her in,” someone said just as I was preparing to shoulder my way through.
We both turned. Standing at the foot of the staircase was Gabriel Grant, arms folded over his very massive, very naked chest. He was dressed in his standardINattire: bare feet, ragged jeans that looked like they’d been worn through an apocalypse, and nothing else. I blinked. What the hell was he doing here?
The smug expression dropped off Darren’s face. “Of course,” he replied, scrambling to step aside. “Right away, Mr. Grant.”
Rolling my eyes, I shoved passed Darren and crossed the foyer. “Saved by a werewolf,” I said, taking on the haughty voice Violet used when playing Lilliana. “How very peculiar.”
Gabe’s eyes sparkled in recognition, and he played along, placing a hand on his heart. “Not peculiar at all, my lady. Since the moment our eyes first met, my heart and soul have been shackled to you. I could not bear to see your light leave this world, even if it meant a most egregious betrayal of my pack,” he said, reciting the cheesiest yet most quoted line from book one ofThese Immortal Nights. The scene it came from was iconic, as it spurred the torrid love affair between the series’ main characters.
I grinned. Under normal circumstances, I couldn’t stand my sister’s costar, but he’d helped me get past Darren the Douche, and apparently, hidden beneath layers of ego, Gabe had a sense of humor. Who would have thought?
“In all seriousness,” I said, dropping the awful Lilliana accent, “thanks for the save. I was ready to punch that guy in the face.”
He lifted his shoulder in a lazy half shrug. “No big deal. If I saved anyone, it was Darren. He looks like a gust of wind could take him out.”
“Gabe?” asked an unnervingly familiar voice, and my amusement quickly faded when I realized it was Sadie. “Sorry to interrupt,” she said, “but they need you on set.”
“Thanks, I’ll be down in a minute.”
Sadie nodded and backed away without so much as a glance in my direction. It was like I was invisible, which I suppose was an improvement from our last interaction.
“Okay, what the hell is going on here?” I asked, glancing around at the commotion. I didn’t particularly care for the solitude of Violet’s house, but this was straight up freaky.
“We’re shooting anINpromo today.”
“Here?”
Another shrug. “The original location fell through. There was a backup, but the venue double-booked with a wedding, so your dad suggested we do it here on the beach. Ten bucks they’ll have me do a shirtless slow motion run through the surf,” he explained, and I got the distinct feeling Gabe was genuinely excited about the prospect.
“Well, you’re already halfway there,” I said, gesturing at his lack of clothing, “but back to my dad. Have you seen him recently?”
“Last I saw, he was in the kitchen.”
“Thanks, and good luck with the wholeBaywatchthing.”
As I made my way to the back of the house, I knew I was wasting my time. With the shoot taking place, Dad would be too busy for me, but I couldn’t get Violet’s words out of my head:Talk to Dad. Maybe he can enlighten you.
What the hell had she meant by that?
I had to know.
Sure enough, I found Dad right where Gabe said he’d be, parked on an island stool where craft service had set up. He was on the phone, talking animatedly in legal terms that went over my head, but when he saw me, he smiled and held up a finger.
While I waited for him to finish his conversation, I grabbed a handful of M&M’s from the snack selection and wandered over to the kitchen window. On the beach below, my sister was posing in the sand. The red dress she wore billowed in the air behind her, compliments of a large wind machine positioned beyond the view of the photographer’s lens.
“How was school?” Dad asked as soon as his call ended.
“Fine.” Twisting my amethyst pendant around a finger, I turned away from the window. “But Violet mentioned something to me yesterday that I’d really like to talk about. I know you’re probably busy, but I was hoping you could—”
